


Randy -  "I'm Different, Are You Different Too?"  Ruddy 'ELL!

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Garrison's Gorillas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 03:21:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15015533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: Randy, looking back and giving you some insight into his early life as the first-born son of The Cottages, son of Goniff, Craig, and Meghada.  Warning - he doesn't do 'subtle' any better than the rest of them!   I imagine we'll hear from him every now and again; I do hope so!





	Randy -  "I'm Different, Are You Different Too?"  Ruddy 'ELL!

"I'm different, just 'tween me and you. Are you different too?" 

Or some such twaddle! Coo, I pure 'ated that book when I was little! Don't know who wrote it, but I can still see the prissy pursed lips and sugary sweet look on Miss Alice Bond's face when she'd read it out loud. Now, didn't spend much time with Miss Bond, not by choice. She'd settled down in the village, thought to open what she called a nursery school, drew in half-dozen at first, then maybe ten by the time she was finished after she figured out she 'ad to cut 'er rates; this aint London, after all. 

Well, excuse me, but even at four, gonna be five in another month back then, I didn't need any ruddy Miss Bond and 'er 'Village Nursery'. "See Dick Run!" "Now I Know My A-B-C's" "A is for Apple, red as can be." Blimey!

By then, could calculate the breaking point on a bridge (just ask Casino!), best way to set up a cross-fire, could shoot a pistol, throw a knife with more than a little skill thanks to Chiefy. Could read a map, directional, topographical or political thanks to my Dad. Actor, 'e'd taught me French and Spanish and Italian, and Dad 'ad started me on German, reading along with speaking them all. And yes, I CAN drop the Cockney when I want to, just don't see any reason to, now or then, not unless a job might need it, and Dad says it just might someday.

Could 'ave blown a safe, too, cept Mum wanted me to 'old off before doing it for real, even though Casino told 'er I'd do just fine, just like I did with opening the combination ones. Mum said it was just too tricky, me 'aving to stand tip-toe on a chair while working with the nitro; Mum's over cautious sometimes, Da says.

Could pick any pocket I could get within reach of, forge just bout any writing in English or German, climb and jump and rewire a goodly variety of alarm systems; Da knew people who could get their 'ands on plenty of samples for me to work with. Knew right off Aunt Lizzie's bracelet 'ad some of the diamonds switched out; well, most anyone could, I'd think; different kind of a sparkle, you know. Could ride, bareback or Western style. And excuse me, 'ORSES, not some ruddy little ponies! Those big chestnuts my Aunt Caeide and Uncle Peter and Uncle Andrew raise up at 'Aven.

By the time Miss Bond got started real good, I'd just finished reading "The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe", which I didn't much care for, just started "The Martian Chronicles", which seemed as if it 'ad some promise. Neither would stand up to 'The Hobbit', acourse, or 'One Thousand And One Nights', or any of the Clan books we 'ad in the library, but Mum says modern literature doesn't 'ave as much 'crunch' to it as the older stuff. Actor says 'e agrees, and Dad just laughs at them.

Would be starting 'the poets' next, if Actor got 'is way, which 'e did. Didn't appeal to me much, but 'e'd promised if I stuck with those, 'e'd let me take on 'The Tempest' and 'Macbeth' at year-end, and I liked that a lot more. And Da told me a really funny story about Mum and the Lady Caroline Lamb, and 'im as a six foot rabbit; it's funny in itself, but what makes it really funny is 'ow it makes Actor choke! I know there's one just as funny about 'Dracula', or maybe it's Dracula's wife, but Dad says that 'as to wait til I'm older. I made a note in my journal to ask 'im when I turn eight; surely that'd be old enough.

'Ave to admit back then I would still carry "The Jungle Book" around with me, it being an old favorite for 'aving a quick read by the lake or in the woods, even if it was a bit young for me. 

So, to be yanked along by my collar, pushed down on a stool, and made to listen to some ruddy self-impressed twit prattle on about "are you different too???", well, what would you think?? Snuck out a time or two, when the biddy got distracted, and Mum 'ad a word or two with 'er about "when I decide I want you teaching him, I'll be sure to let you know!" 

Still, would be out and about, me and Maxie, and next thing I knew either she or Doby'd collar me, shooing Maxie away, sometimes even tossing a rock after 'im, and next thing I knew there I'd be, with the little tikes I 'ad nothing in common with other than my age. Maxie was smart, real smart, knew 'e wasn't supposed to bite either of them, not just for that, not then anyway; 'e'd take off for Mum or one of my Dad's or Uncles or Aunt Lynn lickety split, and soon I'd be 'earing Miss Bond getting an earful from whichever one Maxie'd found first.

When it all first started, they were all polite enough, well, for them anyway, which aint so much, none of them doing 'subtle' very well, though all better than Mum certainly, them explaining to Miss Bond that I didn't need 'er teaching or guidance, and them not in favor of 'er snatching me off the streets like that either.

Later, it wasn't all so polite, and came to be Ben Miller 'ad to take a part. 'E's the Constable 'ere, you know. Miss Bond thought she'd charge the family with neglect; Ben Miller offered to charge 'ER with kidnapping instead, along with unlawful meddling with a tike, unlawful confinement, and lots else, and she backed off, though in a right snit.

Didn't stay round long after that; Mum's got friends around 'ere, so do the others, and once it stopped being funny to Da, well, you don't want to mess with Da when 'e loses 'is smile. No, you really don't. Dad 'as a whole bunch of words for when that 'appens, though I'm not supposed to use any of them.

Got off the subject, I know. That ruddy book, "I'm different," and so on. Fair made me want to toss my lunch, so coy and sweet it was. Acourse I'm different! Well, that's one thing my Mum taught me early on. I'm different, you're different, we all are. Course, I admit, I'm maybe more different than most, but I don't see that as a bad thing, not at all. No, and neither does the family, nary a one a them.

First, being Clan, we appreciate being different, know that's part of what makes the Clan strong, keeps us around when pure logic would've said we'd've died out long ago. And in my family, even those who are adopted Clan, not Clan-born, well they're all different too. 'Ave different skills, and backgrounds, been different places, know different stories. Cause a that, I been lots a places, will probably go lots more places as time goes on.

For one thing, one a the ways I'm different, I've got certain skills of my own, ones I need to practice, and just aint a place round 'ere for me to do that. So, we go up to 'aven, where there's space and open skies and not many overlooking; anyone sees anything they shouldn't, well there's plenty of stories around there that makes them not think so much about it, or least keep their mouths fastened if they do. There's other places too, other Enclaves, and no matter 'ow much I love it at The Cottages? There's just something about the wind under your wings, something special, you know? 

So, yes, I'm different. I'm willing to allow that you're different too. Now, can we get on to discussing something more interesting? Maybe that collection of Escher drawings? Or maybe Jackson Pollock - is it art or is it not? We could get Actor involved; that's always fun, especially when 'e pokers up and gets all snobby. Says 'e'll take me to The Hague next year, if I can find time between classes, to visit the museums. 'As to get special permission, since I'll only be six going on seven then, but says 'e knows the curators and can swing it. Would like that, I think.

Can't take Da, though; likely end up with 'im going shopping again, and Dad purely 'ates when 'e does that! Can't resist the sparklies, you know; I understand that, 'ave some problem with that myself, though maybe not so much as 'e does. Not so much for snuff boxes like 'e is; prefer crystal. Coo, the way the light catches on some of those pieces! Just makes your fingers twitch and ache; just makes you want to . . .


End file.
